January, 12th
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: I want to put an end to it, now" Because there were so many things he kept on ignoring. WK fic
1. Little death of invisibility

**_Maybe if I'd told you the right words, at the right time_**

**_You'd be mine_**

**January 12th, 2002**

The steam made drops of water slide down slowly along the mirror like quiet tears we would have hold on for too long and that still would have found a way to come out. They were caressing the reflection of her bare skin, embracing in an odd ballet the curves of her body; coming to die in the depths of her neck, brushing her breasts, reaching her waist.

Standing a few inches away from the mirror, Karen swallowed hard but didn't move. There were moments in life when all you felt like doing was to let time pass by.

And maybe everything would go away…

Her shaking hand made contact with her shoulder blade. Her fingertips were cold in spite of the heat let by the shower she had just taken. It made her jump, slightly. She had never liked how feelings were always the ones to remember you that you were still alive in spite of the odd sensation floating in your mind that you actually might have died a long time ago. It was bittersweet and used to bring loneliness.

Before her noticing it, the palm of her hand reached her bare stomach and began to caress it. Absent-mindedly her gaze focused on the gesture as if she weren't controlling anything at all and it would leave her emotionally empty.

"Little death of invisibility…"

The murmur got stuck on her lips, refusing to leave her body properly. So she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

An hour later she was stepping out of her limousine and the lights of Chinatown were dancing in the night, rocked by the snow that was falling. As usual she looked around but didn't open her umbrella because she didn't stay any longer in the narrow street. Instead, she pushed the door of the restaurant, smiled at the host who pointed out at her table.

She only saw him once a year and had never exchanged the slightest word with him but curiously he seemed to remember her every time as if a couple of hours in a life resulted enough to keep someone in mind.

And it was.

She turned on her heels but hesitated when she realized that he had actually arrived earlier, before everyone. Usually, she was the last one to show up but since after the evening things would never be the same anymore, she hadn't been able to afford it this time. It just hadn't crossed her mind that he would do as well; that for the next minutes or so, they would have to face each other in all the harshness of her words.

She finally moved forward, never taking her eyes away from him. His eyebrows furrowed, Will seemed to be plunged into the reading of The New York Times with such concentration that her presence in front of him passed completely unnoticed. So she cleared her voice and grabbed the back of her seat to hide the shaking of her hands.

He looked up, smiled.

"Happy…"

"Thank you."

If there was a word in the whole English vocabulary that Karen couldn't stand, it was the one Will had been about to pronounce. For some reason she had never liked its melody and even less the meaning. Obviously it wouldn't change that night.

"You are here rather early."

She sat down at her seat and settled further in the depths of its velvet fabric but she wouldn't feel fine enough on it, anyway. She knew it.

Checking briefly that none of their friends was coming Karen crossed her hands and leaned her chin on her fist then locked her eyes with Will's. She had done this so many times that for a few seconds she let some doubts invade her mind. Fortunately enough, she had the required strength to push them away as quickly as they had showed up.

"It is over."

"Excuse me?"

His incomprehension made her blush and she looked down at the table, started playing with the edge of a napkin.

"Yes… You and I, it's over. I want to put an end to it, now."

The silence that followed embarrassed her more than anything. She had imagined that he would at least ask her an explanation, even protest, but instead Will was staying quiet. Perhaps he was just speechless.

"I need time for myself. I need to breathe."

"And I make you suffocate?"

Something hurt in her throat as he finally talked again. His question had sounded so disarmed, so desperate. She had taken him aback. It was low and she knew it. But there were so many things he kept on ignoring. She shook her head.

"No, it's me. I prevent myself from breathing properly. Would you excuse me for a second?"

She rushed out of the table and headed straight to the oak door leading to the restroom. In three years she had come here, she had never walked in, never even wondered how it would be like once inside.

A fake green plant had been pushed in a corner as a sloppy melody filled the background. There were two sinks, a large mirror that had probably seen a million faces but never Karen's tears; until that evening.

The coldness of the water hit her face and calmed down her sobs almost immediately. With a shaking hand, she hurriedly looked for her eyeliner in the depths of her bag then took her time to reapply some over her slightly red eyes. Blush covered the rest of the damages caused by her sudden pain.

She straightened her dress, took a deep breath and pushed the door again but in the other direction this time. When she made it to her table, she noticed that Jack and Grace had arrived. They turned around, smiled at her.

"Happy birthday, Karen…"

Yes, she couldn't stand this word.


	2. Celebration of life

**Three weeks earlier**

What would have happened if she hadn't been so sick?

The question didn't stop spinning around in her head, making her feel dizzy as a strong sentiment of anxiety seemed to increase little by little. She wasn't scared but frightened.

"Is Karen Delaney here?"

She stood up immediately but kept on looking down at the floor to avoid the other women's gazes. She didn't know anyone and had very few chances to bump into some acquaintance _ that was why she had chosen the clinic in the first place _ but for some reason, she didn't manage to relax at all. It was the first time, her first time and no mattered her age Karen had just understood that self-confidence was still a very fragile so-called friend.

"Take a seat, Miranda is doing some paperwork. She will be here within a minute."

"Do I have to take my clothes off?"

"No, not yet… There is a whole interview before any checkup."

The woman left the room but without closing the door as if Karen's slightest gesture while being alone needed to be controlled. It made her feel even more uncomfortable and without realizing it, she grabbed the arms or her chair tightly.

The place was very small and the bare furniture quite old. The lack of smell was disturbing. It seemed that those walls hadn't kept locked any kind of memory, as if nothing had ever happened there when obviously, it was the exact opposite.

A wave of nausea took possession of her. Immediately, Karen closed her eyes and began to breathe slowly. The worst moment was when it occurred in the morning and her stomach was empty. The spasms hurt so much that she almost felt like she had broken one of her ribs and she stayed there, clutched to the toilets; alone with her despair as tears came to roll down her cheeks and she was breathless.

"Karen, is it? Nice to meet you, I am Miranda."

A woman in her thirties stepped into the sordid room and tended her hand politely. She looked so young that for a few seconds Karen felt stupid. This was the kind of things that were supposed to happen to teenagers _ girls who didn't mind that much about responsibilities _ but she was forty-two years old. And yet a younger person would take in charge her own, childish faults.

"I am really sorry. I made you wait for so long! But the truth is that we had a very, very rough week which resulted in a thousand administrative tasks. I wish this part didn't exist."

"You actually like the other part?"

Obviously Miranda hadn't expected any comment of the sort nor Karen facing an instinctive, mean irony in her own voice. With a motion of the hand, she swept away her impolite question and frowned in an attempt to hide her blushing.

"Excuse me. I am not going through my best days as you can imagine."

"I actually like giving another chance in life to my patients, a new beginning. This is rewarding, extremely rewarding."

A series of questions followed, basic ones, probably to see if she was really determined in her singular, irremediable choice. She didn't want to know anything and turned her head around as the scientist proceeded to an ultra-sound picture. It might have been inside of her body but her mind had to keep its distance with it as if it only were a sort of external element, a bare detail that would never have any kind of importance.

"Okay so, here is what I suggest you. As established by the law, I have to leave you one week to think about your choice and eventually change it. If you don't then I will see you again very soon because it is an emergency. We are fully booked until January, 11th but we can't wait any longer either so how about we settle down on the very next day, January, 12th? Is it okay for you? Of course in the meantime, if you feel like talking, you can come back here."

"January, 12th is perfect."

"May I ask you about the father? Does he know about your pregnancy and your decision to stop it?"

"No, it's… It's rather complicated."

Her hands were cold against her skin as she buttoned up her cardigan. Actually she had shaken all along and now felt completely dirty. She had never lived anything more intimidating.

"Are you sure you can't talk to him about it? It will help you a lot, you know."

As her throat began to hurt before the lack of air and the strength of her pain, Karen simply shook her head and sat back on the edge of the chair, ready to leave what looked like a long and slow nightmare.

"Then I schedule you in the early morning so you can come back home around noon and have a rest. You won't be in physical pain after but moral support will surely help you. Perhaps your friends could organize something with you…"

"I'm sure they will."

"Do you have any question, anything that needs to be cleared?"

"How am I going to feel, then?"

Actually she hadn't planned to ask anything. All she wanted to do now was rush away from the clinic and spend the rest of the day in bed, trying to find a poor excuse to keep Will away from her because right now, she wouldn't be able to bear a single human contact, even less from him.

She hadn't sounded desperate either though. Her voice had been rather self-assured all along the question but the blankness of her gaze had probably betrayed her rough sentiments.

Miranda shook her head.

"Unfortunately, I have no idea."

The fact was that Karen's question hadn't been complete. If she had had to be honest and put her feelings into words, she would have asked the scientist how she would ever be able to celebrate her own birthday in the evening of January, 12th when she would have reduced into pieces the chances of an eventual human being to one day start breathing in the exact morning.


	3. Damages and past

He had offered her a bracelet, a snake-shaped one, in gold with emeralds incrusted in the metal all around when the only thing she had managed to do had been to break up with him in a very cold way. If she had been him, she would have spent the rest of her days in bed or at least wishing nothing but her death. Of course they had grown closer during those past three years, no mattered the impersonal character of their encounters. Their friendship had also strengthened and within an evening she had probably caused its downfall, without any warning at all.

When she came back home after the celebration of her birthday, Karen wandered through the mansion in silence. She had taken off her stilettos and the carpets were now caressing her bare feet with an odd softness. She was exhausted, distressed and yet awoken. It seemed that her dreams would never take her away again and insomnias would rock what was left of her life with the bitterness of her stupidity.

And as if the pain weren't enough, she very soon found herself standing before the room she dreaded the most; there, at the end of the corridor facing a small library where Stanley used to sit down and read the few times he actually was at home not working. The door wasn't closed, for a reason she ignored but for the very first time as she stepped in the nursery, it sounded cold and hopeless.

When she had finally managed to get pregnant, at forty-two years old, unfortunately it hadn't been with the right man.

As the sun woke her up the next morning, Karen realized that she had fallen asleep in the nursery, sat down in the rocking chair. Her body ached and subconsciously enough her arms had crossed tightly against her stomach as if she had been trying to protect it. The scientist had been right, there was no physical pain but an immense sensation of emptiness spreading all over her mind and reducing her heart to sharp pieces of dust instead.

Very slowly her feet made contact with the hardwood floor. She stood up, closed her eyes as the room began to spin around. It was time to go to bed, now.

"Miss Karen…"

"What time is it, Rosie?"

She didn't look at her maid and instead turned her head around to stare by the window. The trees of Central Park were bare and white with the snow.

"It is eight o'clock. Do you want to have a breakfast?"

"No but I want the furniture of this room to be gone by eleven."

Since she wouldn't have found the strength to face her maid's questions, Karen rushed out of the nursery and went straight to her bedroom. The sheets were neat, probably icy. She had never liked this place but Stanley had seemed so happy when they had finally found the penthouse that she hadn't dared to protest. Perhaps she should have said something because in the end, she had still lost him.

For the first time since the last evening, she checked her BlackBerry and stared astonished at the small screen: no call, no message. So he would never talk to her again?

Taking a shower didn't change anything to her state of mind and so she rushed back to bed, succumbing to her invisible despair after a long fight of what looked more like denial than anything else.

She would miss him but the simple idea of his hands touching her again was enough to set off a shiver down her spine and something seemed to hurt in her stomach. She hadn't had time to feel pregnant, to feel life grow inside of her and even less to accept it. For many years she had hoped, somehow, that one day she would be able to experience it but it seemed that it was all about flexibility and adaptation because our dreams didn't always look like what they should have.

"Do you want to eat something?"

Staring at the ceiling Karen had lost the notion of time and when Rosario appeared on the door frame, the light had already darkened outside. She nonetheless shook her head, carried on by a ridiculous pride.

"I would like some tea though. I'm thirsty."

"Are you alright?"

"What, can't I just have an alcohol-free drink for once?"

"No, you know what I mean."

Her exasperation vanished as soon as Rosario refused one of their typical fights and opted for seriousness instead. With a painful effort, Karen sat up in bed and looked at her maid. She swallowed hard but the tears remained on the verge of her hazel eyes.

"I am not depressed."

"Is it because of Mr. Stan? We all miss him around, you know. You are not the only one."

He had been her husband for six years but yet his death had barely touched her in any way. She had been too busy fantasizing about her encounters with Will; how after three years the secret aspect of their affair was still enough to get her excited. It was wrong, of course, but she couldn't help it. And then there had been her pregnancy.

"No, I just need to have a rest."

Grace didn't call her to ask why she hadn't showed up at the office. Jack didn't stop by to entertain her with one of his childish stories. As for Will, he seemed to have accepted a bit too easily to belong to her past because he never tried to reach her in any way and from all her friends, his absence resulted to be the one that hurt the most in the end; when she should have been satisfied of his actual silence.

Karen remained in bed for the rest of the day, drinking tea and trying to understand how at forty-three years old she could bring a new page to a life she had outrageously damaged.


	4. News from Alabama

It finally happened the very next day, in the morning. Of course it didn't follow the scheme of her fantasies at all but the last events had reduced this hypothesis to a mere utopia and she had understood that in the end, nobody really had a hold on life; that perhaps making plans was just a waste of time.

She had abandoned her bed for no particular reason and dragged herself to the greenhouse, a mug of tea in hand. She had never liked the English beverage that much but all of a sudden it seemed that the hot drink was the only thing her body didn't reject completely.

Sat on a velvet couch, Karen kept on staring blankly at Central Park over the large windows; how the snow was still falling with a majestic silence.

"Good morning…"

His voice lit up a smile on her lips, a timid one but that nonetheless eased her features immediately. So he was finally there, ready to speak.

Her legs moved from the couch to the floor and she turned around to face him. He hadn't taken his coat off, barely opened it to reveal a matching black suit and a cashmere scarf. His elegance was undeniable, yet bitterly irresistible.

"Karen, we need to talk."

"There's nothing else to add. I'm sorry but I have taken my decision and…"

"I'm not speaking about that. We need to have a professional talk."

The more her heart was in pain the more she used to smile in a desperate attempt to hide the real reason why her eyes were sparkling under the light. He made it all easier somehow but yet it shouldn't have been that way. How could she feel bad if he didn't seem to care at all? If it were a strategy, then she would have preferred something more classic and tactless.

"What do you mean? I haven't missed any meeting. There is nothing scheduled before January, 25th."

She looked incredulous how he abandoned his briefcase next to a table and made his way to her with awkwardness, almost as if he were afraid of her. A month earlier he would have eagerly kissed her before devouring the last inch of her body with mischievous caresses and a flame of lust in his brown eyes. Now the only thing that stood in his gaze was a blank uncertainty.

"As your lawyer, I received an urgent message this morning. It was from Alabama. Molly…"

It was funny how some automatisms could shut down within a second, without any warning; how your breath could decide to stop at the sound of a couple of words and it always highlighted how life could be fragile.

He didn't need to say more. Actually she didn't give him a chance and with a gesture of her hand, Karen swept away the end of his sentence.

"She's dead, isn't she?"

"She passed away this morning. I'm sorry."

Her nod disappeared in a long sigh and she looked down at the floor, trying to scan the emotions that were passing through her heart. But it was all empty, all dry and bare.

"She gives you the house, that's why I received the message."

Time seemed to get elapsed as both of them remained quiet, avoiding each other's gaze. Against all expectations, Karen broke the silence standing up suddenly.

"I have to go there. I have to attend the funeral. I'm going to pack and get the first flight for Alabama."

"Wait, I can't leave like that. I have a meeting at four and…"

"I don't need you, Will. I don't need anyone to mourn the only member of my family whom I will actually miss."

But the so-called self-confidence she had put in her remark died immediately in the shameful realization that set off Will's reply.

"Since she gave you the house, I'm supposed to be there with you to get everything signed. So in a word, if you leave today then I have no choice but leave as well."

They didn't speak that much during the flight. As a matter of fact, Karen concentrated on the mere goal of avoiding any contact with him for a thousand reasons; because they had broken up, because they weren't supposed to spend time together and thus become closer, because he didn't know anything at all and even less the fact that a latent pain had spread over her damaged body.

The plane landed and they rented a car. The house was an hour away from town and even though she had called Georgia in Manhattan to tell her that she was coming, nobody had been able to pick them up. The funeral would take place the day after and there was a lot to do in the meantime; way too much to attend Karen's priorities first especially since she hadn't visited for very long, shameful years.

The landscape was speeding past in front of her eyes, setting off an odd reminiscence of memories she had thought forgotten and little by little Karen surprised herself relaxing softly; as if her anger had stayed in New York and Alabama couldn't rime with the life she was leading now. It was all about her past, a not so blurry one.

"Did you come very often?"

Will's question didn't hit her with abruptness. His tone of voice had been soft and concerned, yet a bit uncomfortable. Obviously she wasn't the only one who had issues to deal with the current situation. She didn't scoff, only settled further on her seat and leaned her head against the window.

"We used to come every summer, even after my father's death. Molly insisted, saying that just because his son had passed away it didn't mean she couldn't see her grandchildren. She had a very strong temper and yet was so quiet. I should have come earlier…"

Will didn't ask for any explanation, the reason why she had suddenly stopped visiting her grandmother and as he turned on his right, a large Georgian house appeared at the end of an old path.

What happened next got lost in an odd effusion of love and bitterness. Karen rushed out of the car and hurried in the arms of an old African-American woman standing on the stairs in front of the main door of the house.

As she closed her eyes and plunged her face in the cook's neck _ a peculiar scent going to her head _ Karen began to cry. However she wouldn't have been able to say if it were for the sadness of the events or the unexpected sentiment stirred up by the place, how she seemed to start living again.


	5. All the things you don't know about me

It was the smell of the rain that brought the most memories to her mind. It came by successive waves, seemed to dry in her head before going away again but remaining at a reasonable distance she would always be able to reach whenever she felt like to. It left an odd sensation on her heart, something she was experiencing for the very first time. It wasn't bad or uncomfortable but simply different and peculiar.

"It was a beautiful funeral."

Karen nodded at Will but kept on staring at the trees in front of her. The last guests had finally left and as the house was finding back its dear quietness, she had stepped out on the porch to get some fresh air. It was pouring, loudly, and the water seemed to bring some mist to her face in cool caresses.

"I am not sure I want to sell the house anymore."

"Well…"

Her remark implicitly invited Will to sit down by her side on the old bench and as he did Karen restrained the urge to hurry in his arms as she had done so many times in the past, for no particular reason. Now she might have an excuse to do so the situation wasn't appropriate anymore.

Wasn't it funny how we couldn't help missing out some things?

"Financially speaking, of course you can afford it. Now who is going to stay here and keep it all clean, what for?"

"Georgia deserves it. She has been working here for most of her life… It seems to be fair she gets the keys in the end."

"This is a nice gesture from you."

He was avoiding the only subject he was dying to speak about and it got on her nerves. It was boiling in her lower stomach, a sort of cold and ridiculous anger that seemed to get strength as the seconds were passing by. If he didn't dare then she would make the first step because it was unbearable like that.

"If so we should be able to sign all the papers by Monday or Tuesday."

All of a sudden it hit her mind. The dates, the days, she had completely forgotten about them. They were Wednesday and she was supposed to go back to the clinic for a post-abortion checkup, to see how she had overcome it; physically and mentally.

"It can't be done sooner? I need to be in New York on Saturday."

"No, I'm sorry. The process is very long and yet if we do get it all settled down at the beginning of next week, we will be lucky. You should postpone your appointment…"

He hadn't said anything but she was sure he had meant "date" and not a mere appointment in the middle of her day-to-day occupations. She bit her lips to restrain a sarcastic laugh then took a deep breath.

"Do you remember our first kiss?"

The question made him uncomfortable and he laughed nervously before nodding, clearing his voice as if he needed to win some time over whatever was coming.

"Sure, I do."

"When was it?"

"On January, 12th… On your birthday…"

"No, I mean when, where, how."

"We had just had sex for the first time. I was still holding you against me, on the table of the living-room. Then I leaned over and kissed your lips."

Until then the reminiscence of the scene had made her smile mischievously but now it seemed that the excitement of the beginning had been replaced by a cold bitterness and she felt like crying.

"You see, this is why I wanted to stop; to put an end to everything. We never did as we should have and instead we rushed into things, skipping stages and turning it all upside down."

"But it still lasted three years. What happened that all of a sudden, you changed your mind like that?"

"Come on, it was purely sexual and barely human; completely deprived of any feeling and respect. We didn't even speak to each other…"

"You were the one who requested that, not me. You established the rules and I followed them so I'm sorry to say it but your argumentation lacks logic, Karen."

Curiously enough, as if they didn't dare to let explode their anger because of the events of the day and as a respect for the other mourners, their voices were sharp but low; almost like whispers. It gave an odd shade to the moment, not a satisfying one.

She couldn't help but laugh, bitterly, at his remark. She knew that he was right somehow and she would have said exactly the same if she had been him but the cards had been given and her role allowed her to see a whole different story. She shook her head, rolled her eyes but nonetheless remained by his side on the narrow bench.

"You don't know anything about me. You don't know what my favorite flowers are, what brings tears to my eyes, what I love the most in the morning, where I would like to spend the rest of my life if it couldn't be New York City. You don't know what my childhood dreams were, what offends me and shocks me, probably not even my favorite color. Absolutely nothing… And yet we have known each other for four years, had an affair for three. The only thing you know is how to drive me crazy in bed. It might have been fun for a while but you see I grew tired of it; no mattered I didn't give you a chance to get anything else from me. We went too fast on a path that never had any real perspective. I think it's sad."

"Hmm, sorry… Am I interrupting?"

Will and Karen turned around, almost surprised by the fact the world had kept on turning and they hadn't been left alone in a dead-end face-to-face. Georgia was standing on the backdoor, an apron on; flour on her hands.

"No, it's fine, why?"

"The dinner is ready. You can come in now."

The maid disappeared inside, leaving them alone to the disillusions of their odd fight, the non-sense of a poor attempt of explanation. To avoid any more awkwardness, Karen stood up and left the porch.

"Poppies, your favorite flowers are poppies."

She stopped at his remark, looked down at the wooden floor and swallowed back a wave of tears.

"But there are still so many things you ignore about me."


	6. Taking your shoes off

She plunged her finger in the marmalade and smiled at the contact of the sticky food with her skin. She hadn't done that in years and yet it seemed that she had never really ceased, that the pleasure the gesture brought to her had never really disappeared. Perhaps it had just remained hidden in some corner of her blurry mind.

Strawberry, her favorite…

A sigh escaped from her lips as her tongue finally tasted the homemade jam.

"Oh Little Miss Karen, you are incorrigible!"

A vaguely annoyed Georgia took the jar out of Karen's reach and put it on a shelf upon the fridge. Twenty years had passed by and yet the gesture seemed to have found an odd routine back to a time where things had looked easier for everyone. What would have happened if they had been able to see the dark clouds coming? Perhaps they would have avoided the storm and would have saved up some injuries.

"Come on, I'm hungry!"

"Your friends are about to arrive. Can't you just wait for a few minutes more?"

On Thursday it had become evident that she wouldn't be back in Manhattan at the end of the week so she had called the clinic to cancel her appointment and suggested to Jack and Grace to come over for the weekend. It was hard for her to be alone with Will even though their conversation on the porch hadn't changed anything. It was deep inside that she could feel the pain, latent and heavy.

On Friday she had managed to convince him to bring her to town for some so-called errands but instead she had gone to the local clinic and got her checkup there. It was a planned parenthood, like any other one except that, unfortunately, it belonged to a southern little town where the anonymousness of New York didn't exist at all and she had had to bear in silence the weight of the gazes on her, the weight of some believes mixed to religion; how it seemed she would be damned then roast in Hell for what she had just done.

Did those strangers have the mere idea of how hard it was to go through it?

She had made a thousand choices in her life but this one had been engraved on her flesh with the sharpness of an invisible knife.

All of a sudden the sound of a car in the path put an end to her moment with Georgia and Karen hurried out of the kitchen, running to the porch. She was glad to see her friends, if not relieved. Besides they would bring her the taste of New York she missed so much.

Jack stepped out of the car and rushed to her arms, making her twirl around like in some old movie when the husband had the pleasure to find back his wife waiting for him at home. Their scenario was just a bit different but who said that you needed to be married to love someone else? Most of the times, this kind of stories only led to a series of failures.

They spent a warm day together, lost in the effusion of their reunion that Alabama only managed to actually sweeten. Karen showed them the area with a barely contained pleasure. For someone who had tried to hide most of the elements of her past, the change was radical but yet it sounded right, smooth enough so that she wouldn't go in a hurry and ruin a couple of things more in her already very damaged life.

Her friends had retreated to their respective bedrooms a long time ago yet but she was still wide awake, trapped in her thoughts. If they didn't go away and leave her alone, the night would be long, cold and lonely; maybe even frightening. Insomnia had become into her worst enemy since the day things had turned bad with Stanley. Most of the times he didn't go back home and spent the night at some hotel midtown. The fact he might have been accompanied had crossed her mind but after a few glasses everything got so fuzzy that she forgot it all very easily. Even bitterness looked softer then.

"What happened to your feet?"

Georgia's voice made her jump of surprise. She hadn't noticed the maid's presence at the door of her bedroom, leaned on the frame peacefully.

"What do you mean?"

"You always went barefoot before when you came here. And now, you haven't taken off your shoes for a single second. Don't be afraid to make contact with your memories, Karen. They are part of who you are."

Sat on the floor facing the flames in the fireplace, Karen looked down at her stilettos. A pale smile caressed her lips but came to die almost instantly.

"I have ruined it all so who cares if I don't make contact with the past?"

"He doesn't know about the baby, am I wrong?"

The remark took her completely aback. She turned her head around and stared at Georgia in disbelief. The house was so silent that the words had seemed to hit her with even more violence.

Karen opened her mouth to reply but found herself speechless, disarmed and on the verge to cry. She frowned, took a deep breath.

"How…"

"This is a small town Karen, the rumors spread easily and fast. Besides I might have overheard your argument on the porch the day of the funeral."

"I disappoint you, don't I? The last time I came I was still a child, with a whole life ahead of me… And when I finally return I am this woman, broken into pieces, whose only success is to have found an odd, familiar routine in failures."

She had never had any adult conversation with the maid and it was weird to open her heart like that, in the middle of a windy night, so many years after. Almost a whole life had passed by.

"No… I just wish you had the courage to take your shoes off and open your eyes. Good night, Little Miss Karen."


	7. Leaving the clouds for the ground

Grace and Jack left on Sunday evening and the papers for the house got signed the very next day, before noon. It seemed that by an odd coincidence, now that Karen was accepting her past and learning how to deal with it, life was speeding up; leaving her thus completely disarmed.

She would have wanted her friends to stay in Alabama and maybe have a hold over the passing of time too because if she couldn't come backwards to erase her mistakes, then suspending the present to engrave it in her heart would have sweetened her bitterness.

She had never liked those last days of a trip when it all belonged to restrained tears and the promises of a tomorrow that everyone knew as uncertain if not utopian at all.

She would miss Georgia and the taste of the homemade strawberry jam; the sound of the flames in the fireplace and the way the sun pierced through the curtains every morning. There wouldn't be the sound of the wind in the trees or the quietness that the big Georgia house seemed to bring with a disturbing logic, reassuringly. As much as she loved Manhattan, it represented a colder side of her life, more impersonal and full of failures. So it was hard to get detached and go back to it.

A shiver running down her spine woke her up in the middle of the night. She opened her eyes, widely, and realized that the fireplace had consumed all its flames. There was no central heating in the house and the coldness of the winter turned into an unbearable iciness by night. Holding her breath Karen got up only to notice that she was running out of logs. It was three in the morning and the rain hitting against the window reduced to silence and invisibility her last ounce of motivation to go out, cross the entire backyard then reach the storage area where all the logs were.

It would have never happened if she had been wide awake and not still half-asleep. Perhaps this is even why she actually did it in the first place; how she stepped out of her bedroom to open Will's door as if she were going through another fuzzy dream. Yes, deep inside Karen would have never thought that it could be real life.

The bare light woke him up.

"Is everything alright?"

His voice was hoarse, his hair messy. She had always loved those moments when Will didn't pay that much attention to his appearance. He sounded more honest, more fragile but also alive in all his imperfection. She wanted him to be like that, all the time.

She simply nodded and without thinking it twice, came to lay down by his side in bed. He didn't protest when they found themselves in the dark, a few inches away from each other like in a regretted past.

But suddenly a boiling pressure rushed from her lower stomach to her heart, burning her veins and her eyes. She restrained a gasp and there, in the dark, she rolled on her side to find Will's arms as her cries filled out the silence of the house.

....

As soon as the plane made contact with the tarmac on Tuesday, an odd sentiment wrapped up her heart. It was heavy, and cold.

They retrieved for their bags, stepped in her limousine and it is only when she found herself alone at her mansion in The Upper East Side that Karen understood the springs of her quiet conflict. Some things had changed and it would never be the same anymore. She had to turn the page in order to find some balance.

She remained at home for the rest of the day, alone. The words were burning her lips as soon she crossed Rosario but for some reason she didn't want to share them yet. There was something happening in her head, a sort of invisible, boiling activity that required a complete concentration on whatever was going on.

"You didn't reply to Grace's message so I wanted to see if you were alright."

The night had fallen over New York for a very long while and the millions lights were now glimmering in the dark like precious, unreachable diamonds. She had always loved observing the city at this hour of the day when it adopted the same shades as an old pipedream she might have had once.

She turned around to look at Will but didn't move and remained leaned against the large windows of the greenhouse. The floor was soft and warm under her feet when she had always imagined that if she took her stilettos off, the contact would be icy. Perhaps it was a sign. It had to be.

"I miss the house…"

"You want to go back to Alabama?"

The worried tone he used made her smile and she laughed lightly before shaking her head.

"No, I was just talking about the house. I guess I am going to move out and find a brownstone. I want a backyard, some trees."

"Is it what you have done today, thinking about nothing but that?"

"I have spent too much time living up in the clouds. Now I want to touch the ground back."

Will made a few steps towards her, slowly. Since he wasn't wearing one of his black Armani suits, she deduced that he hadn't gone to work in spite of their early landing in the morning and she began to wonder what he could have done during all these hours.

"I suppose you mean in Manhattan, right?"

"And by Manhattan I mean nothing above 70th."

"It's going to be hard. The market in The Upper East Side is quite tough, especially for a townhouse."

"As a matter of fact, I would like to be on the other side of Central Park."

"Karen, about last night…"

She swallowed hard, frowned and clenched her fists.

"I don't want to talk about that."

"But…"

"Not now!"

This time she avoided his arms, the least contact with his body.

There were some things that just couldn't be said out loud.


	8. The oxymoron of poppies

It was weird how sometimes things could settle down at such very quick pace, as if for once the passing of time was a reliable friend and not the enemy we had stared at with fear so many times before. Perhaps it was just a sign that, finally, we had found the right balance and so life could get a new, bright beginning.

Within two days she had found the brownstone, signed the deal and moved in. Rosario would come once a week for all the cleaning and the truth was that Karen actually loved cooking even though nobody knew about it but Will.

She had put the mansion on the market immediately and after a furtive indecision, had decided to sell it fully furnished. It had seemed the best thing to do, leaving all the references of her marriage with Stanley behind then she would take a deep breath and focalize on a new start.

And everything matched, at last. The plans were rushing to her head with clear evidence and logic. Theory melted into practice and the results didn't take long before appearing under an undeniable successful light. Her friends stopped by, she invited them to dinner and it all looked so perfect, completely alright.

"But it is still there, on my heart. As soon as I close my eyes its weight prevents me from breathing properly and so I begin to hyperventilate. It is when the pain is released, with such horrible sharpness that I can't even cry. It seems to swallow back my tears until I feel dry and empty. After a few seconds, it settles down in my stomach. I don't know where exactly but it hurts like hell, as if I were bleeding. And when it happens while I'm asleep, I dream that I am dying."

"There is no rest of your abortion inside of you. The process has been complete successfully."

"I know but it seems that I have lost control of my body since then. I have everything to be happy. My life is finally working out but I have this odd feeling that I am not a part of it. I am missing it all out and yet I can't help it."

"Do you have any recurrent nightmare?"

"No… My brain is blank. I feel like I have lost my identity."

"Are you scared?"

"I just want to be happy."

But the tears invaded her voice and made her last confession a bit blurry as she painfully tried to swallow back her sobs. She hadn't planned to come back to the clinic in the first place but her steps had led her to the building and before her realizing it, she was sitting on one of the plastic chairs, waiting sagely for her turn to see Miranda again.

She had awoken exhausted, with a pressure on her chest that had made her feel down. She had thought that the radical changes would ease the pain but it turned out to be a bitter, failed attempt and her days were gray, bare and cold; no mattered she had left the penthouse to get an Upper West Side brownstone instead.

But if it was all in her head, how would she ever manage to overcome this sharp despair?

"Have you met someone? Have you been thinking about someone lately? In a romantic way, I mean."

"The last time I did, it led me here so honestly, I don't want the story to be repeated one more time. I am not ready, not yet for any kind of relationship."

"Are you still in touch with your last partner?"

Karen finally changed position on the armchair but kept on avoiding Miranda's gaze. It was hard to make eye contact with someone when you reached such degree of intimacy about your life and your interlocutor was nobody but a mere stranger to you. That was why she had always refused to try therapy.

"He sent me poppies. The first day I moved in, someone rung the bell and when I opened the door I came face to face with an immense bouquet of poppies. I had reproached him the week before not to know the slightest thing about me, not even what my favorite flowers could be. But I was wrong and one more time he proved it to me."

The attention had been delicate but it had broken Karen's heart for her not being able to give him anything in return. The days were flying away and no mattered she tried to keep her distance with Will she was getting closer and closer to him.

"He doesn't know about your abortion, does he? You haven't told him…"

"How can I turn the page and overcome what happened if he is still around me? But he won't go away, he won't leave me alone. I have tried everything and…"

"You have to tell him, Karen. If you want to turn the page as you say, things have to be clear between the two of you and the more you wait, the harder it will be to confess this burning lie."

"I am not lying!"

"You are avoiding the truth…"

"But he doesn't care about it. Our relation had nothing serious and I am probably now paying for my irresponsible behavior."

"Have you received many bouquets from men who didn't care about you?"

Miranda's rhetorical question haunted her mind for the rest of the day. Huddled on the couch of her living-room, facing the fireplace and wrapped up in a large blanket, Karen stared at the bouquet of poppies with an odd attention. Nobody knew it but the truth was that she always took it with her whenever she moved from a room to another.

What could she say?

The red of the flower was a passionate one but yet the shapes of the petals seemed warm and friendly, sweet and delicate. Poppies were an oxymoron in themselves, just like her own persona.


	9. The furtive madness of happiness

The mug was very hot against the palm of her hands but she didn't let go of it and on the contrary, tightened her grip on it. She liked challenging her pain sometimes. It had the credits to make her feel alive, not completely blank.

"You seem to have reduced your expenses, I am impressed."

"There wasn't anything interesting at Barney's this week."

Karen made her way to the sofa of her living-room and sat down, carefully enough not to burn herself with the hot tea. The fireplace was on and the colors of the flames go reflected on the large windows, their vivid colors contrasting with the darkness of the night. Manhattan seemed to succumb to an odd pipedream by then and if nothing ever really ceased, life still slowed down considerably in a restful silence.

"Are you sure you don't want any drink?"

But one more time Will shook his head and remained focalized on the series of numbers spread on a dozen papers in front of him.

"I called Georgia today…"

She felt like talking. The silence between her and Will had too many consequences to abdicate before it so she had to find something, any kind of conversation would still be better than their stolen glances. Besides she was afraid that he would take advantage of her passivity to come closer, to work on their lame intimacy.

"How is she? Tell her hello for me the next time you call her."

"She is doing fine and she has a lot of plans for the house. I can't believe that she has so much energy at her age. Not that I am surprised, she has always been like that. But I just wonder how she can do it, how she always finds the strength to get up in the morning."

"Well I guess she feels alright with the life she is leading now."

He had shrugged and let the words come out as if it had been the most logical comment on Earth, a sort of automatism like breathing. Was she deprived of it that she found it was hard to ever feel like leaving her bed behind then step in life again?

"Do you feel the same?"

"What do you mean?"

She tightened her grip on the mug to prevent from sweeping away the papers Will was falsely concentrated on and forcing him to look at her properly. He seemed absent, not interested the slightest bit in the conversation they were having now. Perhaps he was going through a bad day but for some reason Karen didn't think so. Everything in him, from his tone of voice to his attitude let imagine he would have wished nothing but be somewhere else that night; certainly not by her side. That hurt, quietly.

"Is it always easy for you to get up in the morning, just like Georgia?"

The question seemed to embarrass him a lot. In a long sigh, Will stretched his legs to win some time but only made an old tin box fall down on the floor. He caught it up immediately but a couple of photos escaped from it, sliding along the coffee table.

She should have been more careful and so she would have noticed the whole scene then reacted before it being too late but instead she had preferred to sip her tea, staring at the fireplace. A quick glance on Will and she realized her mistake.

"No!"

"What are these?"

But it was too late and Will was already plunged in the contemplation of a whole series of black and white pictures.

"Hey, isn't it Alabama?"

"Hmm…"

"Who… Is that you?"

Will pointed out at a chubby little girl who wasn't older than five. She was smiling at the camera, holding an old straw hat. She was barefoot.

"I was a child at some point in my life too, you know."

"You were cute."

Under other circumstances, Karen would have protested, scoffed and changed the topic without any transition because it made her feel so uncomfortable. But something happened, something that stopped all the rest.

Will took her hand and caressed it softly as he went through the other pictures.

It might have been a subconscious gesture for him but the sensations stirred up in her body were such that her brain shut down and she quietly melted, on the verge of a million tears.

…

She couldn't stop smiling. As soon as she had opened her eyes and looked quietly by the window at the trees of her backyard the next morning, a warm lightness seemed to have invaded her soul and she had smiled, instinctively from then on.

It had been wrong but like a sort of delicious prohibition that tasted good and was way too tempting not to succumb for a few minutes, a few lonely hours of her life.

He had gone back home without anything happening but the heat of his hand on hers had remained all night long, accompanying her dreams with the sweetness of a couple of wishes we would have kept quiet just in case the loud sound of their melody hitting the air would have broken into pieces any chance to make them come true.

And it wasn't that painful.

"Hi Gracie, is Will there? I need to talk to him. It's about Walker Inc."

Cell phone in hand, she stepped out in her backyard and looked absent-mindedly all around, genuinely serene.

She should have known that happiness found all its resonance in its furtive madness.

"Will is not here. He is out on a date with Paul. Or should I say, their fourth date this week… To be honest I guess…"

But she never heard the rest of Grace's sentence. Something got broken, inside of her. Actualy no, she just stopped breathing.


	10. Carnegie Hall and a couple of things

She was a wreck.

Will had a date and they seemed to get along very well.

As much as the darkness of her feelings got hidden behind a thick wall of lies, Karen didn't manage to face the truth and accept it as it was, just like that. It sounded unfair and yet she was the one who had put an end to their affair, always refusing to give him the slightest explanation over a decision that _ for people who didn't know her secret _ seemed to come up from absolutely nowhere. Logically enough, Will had simply turned the page.

Paul was an architect, with excellent dispositions and most of all, a background that strangely matched Will's. They had only been dating for two weeks but yet the situation was different. Something was happening, a sort of undeniable chemistry and after ten minutes spent with them you came to the evident conclusion that they were made for each other. Their paths seemed to have been drawn to cross at some point in their lives.

And it let her completely disarmed.

"I just can't stand his touch anymore because the last time he did, the last time I allowed him to do so, I ended up dealing with a positive sign on a stick. But I've never wanted him to stop looking at me… Yet I know it doesn't make sense. I told him it was over so it's fair enough if he goes towards someone else; no matters it sickens me."

"It was an accident. It can happen to anyone."

"Yes but I'm the only one who has to face a broken heart now. Not that I really blame him… You know how it is. We pretend it's not serious, that we're just having a good time together _ kind of friends with benefits _ but of course deep inside there's always a little voice asking for more so when it gets disillusioned, we fall down."

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't apologize; it's not your fault. It's nobody's fault but mine."

Miranda had protested but she hadn't listened to her, persuaded as she was by the veracity of her own words. Some days were easier, almost light and pleasant but it never lasted long enough for her to find back at least an ounce of hope and all of a sudden she let obscure sentiments invade her thoughts, dragging her down.

By then all Karen wanted was to disappear among the crowd, to vanish from the surface of Earth and have a break. For entire decades she had worked hard on singularity so that people would pay attention to her and to her slightest gestures but the wind had changed its direction and now it was all about invisibility.

She was walking up 7th Avenue, staring blankly at the dirty asphalt of the sidewalk when everything tipped over. Some people would have said that it was fair, especially since she had remained quiet for so long. More or less soon, her lies had to catch her back and it would have hit hard, with a cold abruptness.

"You're heading the wrong way if you want to go to Barney's."

The remark made her stop and surprised, she found herself facing Will as dozen of people were coming and going on her back. She had reached Carnegie Hall without noticing it and according to the effervescence, a concert was about to start.

"What are you doing here?"

If she had let her honesty light up her features, she would have showed her surprise and the joy that his presence by her side could bring but instead her face remained closed and she plunged her hands in the depths of the pockets of her coat.

Will was wearing an elegant suit and a gray cashmere scarf. Concentrating on the accessory, Karen wondered if he hadn't had the same one on the first time they had slept together on that cold, lonely night of January, 12th.

"Paul managed to get tickets for Valentine's Day concert at Carnegie so we couldn't miss it. He's at the box office…"

She couldn't help it. At the sound of Paul's name, she frowned and looked away but her awkward gesture only managed to irritate Will.

"You dumped me in the first place, Karen. Playing hide-and-seek for a while worked out but I eventually grew tired of it especially since you always refused to speak to me."

She looked for an escape but realized that they were surrounded by people waiting impatiently for the venue. Groups had formed from which laughter and light conversations were going on. Obviously they were the only ones whose whispers were so cold.

"I'm not mean with Paul or anything. I respect him."

"Your silence when he's here doesn't at all. Why don't you tell me once and for all why you broke up with me? It drove me crazy and yet I remained quiet but my patience has reached such limits that sometimes I even wish we had never met, never kissed; never shared anything."

He could have stabbed her there, in front of Carnegie Hall that it wouldn't have hurt more. Her gasp came to die in a failed attempt to swallow back her tears and she bit her lower lip in silence.

Why had she left strangers get her trapped in the middle of a dead-end discussion, there on a busy street?

"I'm fed up with your silence, Karen. Tell me now. Tell me now why you broke up with me."

"This is not the right place and even less the right time."

"But it's never the right time with you. I don't care anymore. Just tell me now or leave, leave my life definitely."

She had never known how to deal with ultimatums. They stressed her out and in the end, she always abdicated, quietly; hopelessly resigned.

"I can't."

"I need to know. I need to know why all of a sudden, you ran away from me."

"Because we went too fast…"

"What are you talking about? We weren't even committed!"

The contrast between his self-assured tone and her fragile voice was sharp, almost too big to be taken seriously or to have the slightest chance to make the conversation evolve with balance as, though, it was required.

Her frustration began to boil one more time in her lower stomach but all of a sudden and for the very first time, she felt it rush to her lips, running through her veins and before she realized it the words came out loudly.

"We weren't, indeed, until I had to face this bloody pregnancy and everything got ruined!"

Since nobody stared at them or suspended the conversations going on around, Karen deduced that she might have not talked as loud as she had thought in the first place but Will's astonished face still let her understand that he had heard; that he knew now.

"You're pregnant?"

His self-confidence had suddenly melted into a sort of blank incredulousness.

"Not anymore…"

His silence was worse than his words, the way he seemed unsure about her, lost and yet quiet. She shrugged, trying desperately to give some strength to her voice.

"It was an accident. It should have never happened… Not even 1% of women with IUD get pregnant."

"I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about? I wouldn't have changed my mind anyway. This wasn't the kind of plans I had."

"No... I'm sorry for having been by your side, all along, intimately, and yet I haven't noticed the slightest thing. It seems I haven't been able to look at you properly and for that, I will never… I should have been there. I don't see how you could forgive me for having been so selfish."

"Hmm, I have the tickets."

When Karen looked up and fixed Paul, she wondered how long he had been standing by Will's side; how much of their conversation he had heard. Before the paleness of his face and his obvious discomfort, it might have been a while.

She made a step backwards, slowly, perplexed and embarrassed.

"I have to go now. Happy… Happy Valentine's Day, Paul. Enjoy the concert. I have always loved Carnegie."


	11. A matter of time

He had alluded to an important case in San Diego but she knew that it wasn't true, that he had lied just to take his distance with her because they couldn't go on like that. For some reason, she even doubted that he had really left for California. Perhaps one day they would bump into each other during a lonely walk through Chinatown and he would reveal that he had remained there all along; that he would never be able to go away from her.

But the days were passing by and nobody was showing up, damaging thus a yet fragile fantasy that only seemed to work out in the quietness of her desperate mind.

He called Grace regularly, as well as Jack but her own phone remained unused and nobody noticed. Nobody said anything about that. A couple of times she had dialed his number though her courage had always vanished before she had dared to call him properly. His silence was enough to understand that he didn't want to hear from her and the least she could do was to respect his decision.

It might hurt but in the end, Karen couldn't help thinking that she fully deserved it.

She had learned from Grace that he had broken up with Paul on Valentine's Day. Coming back to his apartment early in the evening, he had left Carnegie Hall at the intermission but refused all along to give the reason of his unexpected choice.

The next morning he had packed, hailed a cab and disappeared from her life.

"I miss Will."

Her confession, as distressed as it had sounded, made Jack smile softly. He could have rolled his eyes, teased her and changed the whole topic of the conversation but it seemed that for once he had been able to understand her emotions.

"I'm not surprised. You two have always been so close… Even Grace envies you for that."

A wave of heat invaded her cheeks and she instinctively looked down at her feet, her hair falling down in front of her face; hiding thus the reaction of her body.

She had never thought about it; how the others could actually sense the relation she had with Will. Most of the times, she tended to analyze their own situations and where she was supposed to be among it. It had never crossed her mind that others would do the same with her and the realization was odd, extremely embarrassing.

"What if he never comes back? What if he meets someone in California and decides to settle down his life there?"

"Why would he do that? We are his life."

"You know what I mean, Jack. Though you have no idea how important he is to me."

Curiously enough the bitterness of her sadness had vanished in a sweet tone and the revelation had slid on her lips with an undeniable logic. All of a sudden it had seemed that all her fears had left and she had even been able to look at Jack properly.

"To be honest, I think I have guessed it; half-confessions included."

"I love him."

The blurry vision of her eyes forced her to look up at the ceiling for a few seconds but as it didn't resolve anything, Karen shrugged and finally abdicated before her tears. Jack's arms wrapped up her frame, softly.

…

The day at the office had been long, boring and blank just like all the previous ones and the others that would come but since she had nothing else to do with her life, sitting at a desk had at least the credits to fill the hours left.

The winter was going away slowly but the breeze of spring wasn't bringing him back either. Jack hadn't mentioned her breakdown a single time and life had gone on or so as if she had never really opened her heart to him. Sometimes she even wondered if he had actually understood what she had meant that day; what she really felt for Will.

Karen turned in her street and reached the stairs leading to the door of her brownstone. She had been living in New York for over twenty years and thought that she had fallen under the charms of the city since the very beginning but her decision to move to The Upper West Side had made her reach another stage.

For the very first time, she really had the sentiment to belong to a community and she felt at home; in peace.

She opened the door, walked in and noticed the envelope on the floor. It was a classic, random white one but with no stamp on it, not even a name. Pushed by a sudden curiosity, she picked it up and took out what looked like a letter of it.

It was Will's handwriting.

Instinctively she rushed back to the door and looked at the street but she had been absent all day long and he could have stopped by five hours earlier if he had actually been the one to slide the letter under the door in the first place.

Her coat still on she sat down on the first step of the stairs that led to the upper floors and plunged in his words with the effervescence of the ones who had hoped for too long and couldn't wait another second more.

_ You don't accept my apologies but I still need to say how sorry I am, for everything. _

_Since the day we kissed for the first time to our last encounter in front of Carnegie Hall, I have lacked respect towards the woman you are. I have never forced you, you established the rules and I followed even though deep inside I knew that it wasn't how you would have wanted things to be between the two of us. _

_It's not just about rushing and ignoring our responsibilities but also running away from what our affair meant because infidelity is a harsh word, a tough notion to accept and deal with. _

_And because sometimes, it leads to another kind of feelings…_

_You might have hidden your problems from me but I still think that I should have guessed that something was going wrong; how you were in pain. I wouldn't even forgive myself for having been so selfish so I don't understand why you aren't mad at me but only at yourself. It's not fair because if someone has ruined it all, then it's me. _

_But I don't want to lose you, Karen. _

_I miss you. _

_I know we can't come backwards and erase our mistakes, as much as I would love to, but what if we turned the page and started it all over again? What if we took our time instead of rushing straight towards our demise? _

_Perhaps you don't want to but at least let me be honest with you because I'm not sure I can afford to live without you. _

_So tell me now, would you accept…_

She had lost herself in his words and realizing suddenly that the end of the letter was missing hit her hard. His sentence remained unfinished with all the abruptness that a strong frustration could bring.

Immediately Karen stood up and looked around for the missing part, wondering if she had let escaped a second sheet of paper in the precipitation of the read of the letter. After a quick glance at the floor and the envelope, her heart seemed to melt down in sadness as she came to the evident conclusion that nothing had been left aside.

Turning on her heels over and over, she was about to go out looking aimlessly for something she ignored when someone knocked on the door.

"Oh no, not now…"

Ready to shorten the visit, she opened the door and forgot to breathe as she came face-to-face with Will. He was standing there, in front of her; hands in the pockets of his jacket. He made a step forward, reducing thus the distance to mere inches, almost invisible ones.

"So tell me now Karen, would you accept it if I asked you on a date?"

Seconds melted into minutes unless it was hours suspended in a whole life. She wasn't sure because as soon as she found back the warmth of his arms and she let her tears come out, Karen lost any reference of time.


	12. A new beginning

"Would you like some tea or a coffee?"

"A tea would be great, thank you."

Through a timid smile, Karen nodded before heading to the kitchen area and brewed some water.

It had been a week since the day he had slid the envelope under her door and asked her on a date. An old routine seemed to have settled back _ dinners with Grace and Jack, drinks at the coffee shop _ but it contrasted with their secret intimacy where a thousand changes had invaded their days, sweeping away their misfortunate past.

They didn't dare to do the slightest thing, to make the smallest step as if they were afraid to break down into pieces their fragile balance. Will had come back to his apartment a few hours after their unexpected reunion on the front door of the brownstone and he hadn't called her for three days in a row, suspending thus the exact object of his unforgettable question. When her phone had finally rung, her heart had speeded up its pace and never ceased from then on.

They would go on a first date, give themselves a new beginning and try to turn the page definitely over their previous experiences.

Carefully enough, Karen grabbed the mugs and brought them to the coffee table of the living-room just in front of the fireplace. The silence was awkward but sweet enough. Actually it hadn't left them of the whole evening, highlighting thus the tension set off by the importance of the situation. A first date needed to be perfect, especially theirs.

"It is weird, isn't it? I mean the way we had literally jumped on each other the first time and how now I can barely look at you in the eye. I feel kind of ridiculous right now, I'm really sorry."

His confession made her laugh, softly enough but she restrained her instinctive reaction almost immediately for being in the same situation as him. It was odd to break down habits; no mattered how wrong these ones could have been.

"It was a very nice restaurant; thank you for bringing me there. I have always loved Little Italy."

She took a sip of her tea and looked down, uncomfortable. As much as they were supposed to go into a new beginning it seemed there were a couple of things she couldn't forget, feelings that needed to be said. So she took advantage of Will's silence to go on, concentrating intently on the floor as if she were afraid to fail and to fall down.

"I have been scared to death, all along… Not about my choice _ that, I knew it was what I had to do _ but the fact I was alone. It's hard to deal with the abruptness of this world when there's nobody to hold your hand and keep on telling you that it will be alright, that you will be fine and life will go on smoothly. These might be lies but sometimes it's all we're asking for."

She had taken him aback, of course. What kind of person would have expected to speak about an abortion on a first date when they were supposed to turn the page?

Will remained quiet and she avoided his gaze, meticulously.

"Are you mad at me? Be honest, please. I know you have always wanted to have a child and I took this chance away from you. Are you mad at me for that?"

"I wouldn't be here tonight if I were thinking so. I would have never come back to you then asked for a second chance… You took the right decision. I just wish I had been with you by then."

It was hard to believe him but even worse to keep alive her doubts, to torture herself with a thousand wonders and what-ifs.

So she turned her head around and finally looked at him. He seemed to be serene, tensed by the situation and the weight of this first date but happy, not angry at all. His fingers brushed her hand and she couldn't help frowning, taking deep breaths of air to prevent from crying. It didn't work out that much and in a shrug Karen abdicated in Will's arms.

"I was so scared…"

She didn't remain in his embrace this time. The week before when she had rushed in his arms, they hadn't moved, barely spoken. They hadn't kissed either.

It was a new beginning.

Very slowly Karen broke the hug, her hands sliding up his back until they reached his nape. They had never taken their time to observe each other, to listen to their own desires. Instead they had satisfied a blank lack of love and the bitterness of a failed life. They hadn't shared anything and only accentuated the distress of their hearts.

It had to change now.

When his lips finally found hers, it all turned out perfect; sweet enough as they needed it. The kiss was timid, almost chaste as a matter of fact, and it was odd to think that it was far from being the first one.

She deepened it as his hands held her waist tighter and she felt his smile against her mouth; three years of an invisible affair when a kiss of one second managed to stir up so much more in the end, as if they were finally learning from their gestures, their new intimacy.

Will abandoned her lips but in a tender gesture passed a couple of fingers through her hair, pushing it back behind her ear and as he locked his eyes with hers and smiled brightly.

"How could I be mad at you, Karen?"


	13. Listen to your heart

"Is it going to hurt? I looked for an answer on the Web and there were these girls who said that they had been in pain."

If she had had to put a date on her high level of anxiety, she would probably have mentioned the second week after the fist time they had kissed. The days were passing by and they were getting closer, little by little.

She had always known that it would be a matter of time before they spent the night together again but it seemed that she had been caught up back by the tricky numbers of the calendar. It had started with bare wonders but soon enough evolved into a real fear and all of a sudden she had lost her sleep, haunted by the idea that it might never be the same after what had happened to her body.

Twisting her hands nervously, Karen looked down to avoid Miranda's gaze. It was odd to go into such intimate details with someone who wasn't a friend even though yet the scientist wasn't a complete stranger either. She felt stupid, and extremely ashamed.

"It's been two months now so there's nothing to worry about or at least physically. Besides you haven't bled that much in the first days, haven't suffered important stomach cramps. I usually recommend three weeks of abstinence to avoid any infection and you're far from this indication now. You need to relax, maybe go into longer foreplays… And if you feel ready then the rest will be alright."

Miranda's words sounded fair enough but deep inside the weight on her heart hadn't disappeared at all, barely moved an inch.

"What if he doesn't like my body anymore? I told him about the abortion so he knows everything. But…"

"Your body hasn't changed, Karen. The only scars you eventually carry on are the ones from your heart and from your mind. They need to be taken care of seriously that's why you don't have to rush into something more intimate if you're not ready. It's really important. I mean it."

"It's not a light decision. I don't… I love him."

She hadn't said it to anyone, not even to herself so when the words finally escaped her mouth to resound in the air they stirred up an odd pain she had never felt before; halfway between an extreme joy and the terrible fear to lose him once and for all.

"If he loves you as well then he should understand that you need time."

"Oh, he does. Actually he hasn't asked for anything but… It's been so long now."

"Do you still have desire?"

"It comes back slowly, by waves. Some days I feel very cold and can easily consider my life without any sexual activity but the other times _ most of the times _ I miss the pleasure it brings and the complicity I used to have with him. We weren't… We weren't officially together in the past and those moments were the only ones we had, just for the two of us. I need them back."

"Then you have no reason not to do so."

"I'm just afraid to be in pain because I wouldn't be able to relax enough. It's… Honestly, this apprehension is dragging me down."

"Think of it as your first time. We all had to face it at some point in our lives with the incertitude of the novices."

That was the problem for Karen. Her first time had been completely blank. It hadn't hurt and she hadn't felt her heart speed up its pace because it had been so random. Now she thought about it, it seemed that she had simply opened her legs and blocked her mind to any feeling; concentrating on something else all along. She hadn't chosen the right person, for the right reasons but now something had changed and she was scared to death.

"If he's sweet enough then let him do, slowly. But if you don't feel comfortable then don't be afraid to tell him. He will understand, especially since he knows what you've gone through. Now one more time, physically speaking you are more than ready. Just listen to your heart and don't rush into things."

She nodded, vaguely convinced by the scientist's words. She could trust Will, there was no doubt about it but it was still hard not to focalize on her dreadfull feelings.

"Are you afraid to get pregnant again?"

She had thought about it on several occasions but the answer had remained blurry. Sure it had been an accident but she hadn't skipped any pill or anything. They had used a contraceptive so technically, there was still a chance that it would happen again.

She was just a lot more serene before the eventuality now.

"No, not really… It's more about my body and the way I feel it has changed. I can't help it."

"It's okay. You have changed your perspective of things, which it's normal, now your body is still the same. You may just use it differently, quietly. Would you say the abortion weakened your couple or strengthened it?"

"It strengthened it, definitely and as unexpected as it is because I would have never imagined that we would… We would get so close at some point. It made us realize a couple of very important things about us, about our life. And it strengthened our relationship."

There hadn't been the slightest ounce of hesitation in her voice. She hadn't needed to think about it before answering the yet very intimate question. The words had come up with logic, a reassuring one.

Miranda smiled.

"Then there's nothing to be worried about. He's probably wishing nothing but finding back the heat of your body in his arms."


	14. The funny thing is

She opened the door of the apartment, looked around with apprehension before giving a shy smile to Will who was preparing the meal in the kitchen.

"Where are they?"

She stepped in carefully, crossed the living-room _ abandoning her coat on the sofa _ and made her way to the countertop of the kitchen area. Will put down a spoon then turned around to hold her in his arms. The gesture finally made her relax.

"I sent them to buy a couple of bottles of wine. They left five minutes ago."

The timidity of her smile vanished as she found back the softness of his lips in a tender kiss.

Sometimes she wondered how such a simple gesture could make her forget all the rest, pushing aside any kind of problem. It had never happened to her before.

She broke apart the embrace only to smile brightly at him, her eyes locked with his brown ones. She didn't like the idea that everything was falling into place but if she had had to be honest, it was exactly what she felt.

They weren't coming back to a routine but creating a new one, warmer and sweet. They had slept together for the first time the week before and everything had gone smoothly. She had left behind her fears, all these wonders that had haunted her mind for so long and finally abdicated to the undeniable sentiment that she might actually be happy.

It was odd to think that the balance she had been looking for during her whole life had come from Will. She had always considered him as a very good friend but never as the man who would bring so much to what had looked like until now a bitter suite of failures.

"I missed you…"

Her confession made him laugh lightly. She scoffed, pretending to be offended when she could barely imagine go into an argument with him.

"I would have never imagined that you could be so demonstrative."

The remark made her blush; no mattered Will was simply teasing her. She couldn't help it. As soon as someone alluded to her personal feelings, it set off a wave of embarrassment that came to spread over her mind, invading her whole body very quickly.

But before she got enough time to reply, the door burst open and as Grace and Jack came in, she got away from Will's arms.

They hadn't spoken about the situation yet and how at some point they would have to break the news to their friends. It was all implicit, in the slightest gaze they exchanged. None of them ignored what would have to come but for the moment it seemed they only wanted to focalize on their own story. The day they would reveal everything, they would lose a part of their intimacy and apparently, they weren't ready for it.

The evening went smoothly and nothing really predicted what would happen the next morning. After dinner, the four friends settled down to watch a movie. Will had brought blankets, as they used to do rather often, and some pillows. The hours passed by and before she realized it, Karen succumbed to her dreams against an already sleeping Jack.

It wasn't the first time they all remained there on the floor, asleep on an improved mattress after a long night of movies and talks. There was something sweet if not innocent to it and subconsciously or not, they all enjoyed it.

The chilly air of the morning woke her up. Before opening her eyes, Karen knew she was standing in Will's arms. She could recognize the beats of his heart, the shapes of his chest and the smell of his skin against hers. Following the purest automatism, her lips planted a kiss on his neck as she cuddled against him, pushing him to tighten his hold on her; no mattered he was still asleep.

Perhaps it took her a second unless it was five minutes or a full hour but all of a sudden she realized where she was, how she had landed there in the first place. Opening her eyes widely and swallowing back an increasing anxiety, she looked up only to face a blank expression on Grace's face.

They didn't need to talk to each other. Obviously Grace had been standing there observing them for long enough to understand.

Mug in hand, she left and stepped out on the terrace.

A bit troubled Karen stood up immediately and went for her friend. Her heart was beating fast, way too fast against her chest.

As she made her way on the terrace, she slowed down her steps and observed Grace's back with apprehension. It shouldn't have happened like that. It was hard, for both of them.

"Not now…"

Grace's reaction took her aback and torn between her friend's desire and the urge coming from her own heart, Karen bit her lower lip; shivered as the breeze of the morning caressed her nape unexpectedly.

"I had an abortion."

Obviously her own comment surprised Grace who turned around and frowned, confused.

"I had an abortion in January. It was Will's…"

Grace turned her face back towards Riverside Drive and laughed.

"You know what is funny? How you try your best, for whatever reason, to convince yourself that some things will never happen and the day they do, you can't help laughing because in the end, you have always known that it was how everything was supposed to be."

Very slowly, Grace took a sip of her coffee and looked down at the Teak floor. She didn't look angry or sad but disillusioned, bitterly.

"Jack was right when he saw you two this morning. You're a cute couple but… I need time. I'm sorry."


	15. It had looked like a sign

January, 12th, 2003

She stepped out of the car and looked around. The street hadn't changed that much, always the same dirty buildings and the red lights lost in the fog of some cold winter. She could hear the traffic from the avenue, a few blocks down in her back as the peculiar smell of Chinatown was going to her head bewitchingly.

Hands in the pockets of her coat, she took a deep breath, turned on her heels and carefully headed to the restaurant.

Poets of the 19th century had dedicated their whole life to the concept of reminiscence and while all day memories hadn't stopped rushing back to her mind, she had thought about those men, perplexed before their adoration for something she would have gladly pushed aside and never had to face again. But it had been there, as soon as she had opened her eyes and rolled on her back in bed waking up in the morning.

A year ago a part of her had been roughly damaged.

The door got opened and she walked in, absorbed by the warmness of the place and the delicate murmurs of the conversations going on over the clinking of glasses and a traditional song played in the background.

As usual, the old man smiled at her before indicating with a motion of his head a table for four a bit farer in the room. She liked the fact that he remained quiet throughout the years. It brought a sentiment of peace, a serenity that turned so rare in the effervescence of Manhattan; and a subtle politeness as well.

She smiled back and headed to the table. Her heart was beating fast but she wasn't anxious, hurt and lost like the last time she had come.

So many things could happen in a year.

She observed his hands, how his hold on The New York Times was tight and self-assured. She knew his palms by heart and the softness of them on her skin. Like a missing ring on a finger, she felt incomplete without his hands intertwined with hers.

Like the last time he didn't notice her presence by his side and so she cleared her voice, a shy smile on her lips. A year before she had felt like she was dying, deepening a bleeding injury in her heart as she had decided to break up with him. It had sounded right, vaguely, even though her sincerity had claimed the exact opposite in silence.

Abandoning the newspaper, Will immediately stood up to offer her the chair next to him. His hand slid on her waist. He leaned over for a soft kiss.

It didn't look like any routine or some monotone gesture but yet it was a daily one. It seemed to belong to the notion of logic, at least in her heart; and in his.

She sat down slowly and tried to ignore the heat that had suddenly rushed to her cheeks. Succumbing to instinctive reactions like this one was a sign of weakness for her and she couldn't stand the mere idea of a lack of control over her own body. It got on her nerves, sweetly enough though.

"Happy…"

"It's snowing."

From the whole English vocabulary, there were still a couple of words she had difficulties to deal with. He knew it but persisted, every year. Anyway it wouldn't have been the same if he hadn't tried once again and she needed those references for being the only ones she had ever had until now.

With sparkling eyes she shrugged and looked at the ceiling, amused.

"It always snows on January, 12th. It has to. It's a sort of tradition, my tradition."

A pressure on her back made her frown and moved in vain on her chair as she tried to settle on a more comfortable position.

"Are you alright?"

His concern had turned into an irritating care through the weeks but like those odd habits that followed us since the very beginning, she couldn't live without his preoccupation; the way he analyzed or tried to, the least of her movements. It was part of their life now.

"I'm tired, a bit aching. I should have taken a relaxing bath before coming but I would as well have fallen asleep in it and missed this whole ceremony."

She turned on her side and began to stand up. Will immediately helped her through perplexed eyes. He looked overwhelmed, lost before the sensations she was going through; too far from them.

"Is everything alright?"

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

The question made her scoff. Shaking her head vehemently, she made a face and turned around.

"I still can pee by myself, thank you."

She hated that, how everyone thought she needed to be assisted when the truth was that she was perfectly fine with the way things were. It sounded right, for the very first time.

She pushed the oak door and couldn't help staring at the sink she had leaned against the year before as she had burst into silent tears. The old mirror was still there too, the one she had looked at to make any trace of a burning distress disappear from her face.

It seemed so far now.

When she came back into the room, Grace and Jack had arrived. It hadn't been easy for the four friends when her relationship with Will had become public and official. A quiet tension had floated above their heads, stirring up an awkward sentiment of having been betrayed, little by little. But the days had passed by and the remorse had finally faded away as if the strength of their bond would never be damaged by the winds of existence.

"Happy birthday, Karen…"

Oh yes she hated that word. It sounded abrupt and bitter to her ear, highlighting nothing but the passing of time and the fact that life was so fragile; as well as unexpected.

She sat down, subconsciously letting her hand caress her stomach.

If it all went well, she would give birth to a girl in February. The pregnancy hadn't been planned, surprising everyone, starting with her. But it had sounded different this time and when she had seen the positive result on the stick, it hadn't sounded wrong.

No, it had looked like a sign.


End file.
